


Turtle Soup

by sassenachwaffles



Series: Outlander Polaroid Series [4]
Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fluff, polaroid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 06:31:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13452513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassenachwaffles/pseuds/sassenachwaffles
Summary: What if Claire had also taken a Polaroid Camera through the stones? Series by @annalisedemoodboards Accompanied by my fic. Turtle Soup edition.





	Turtle Soup

**Author's Note:**

> The night of the Governor’s Ball the English come for Jamie who makes a point of giving the photographs to Claire to hold on to while he is in custody. Later, when she has a moment to herself she pulls the packet out of her pocket and flips through to the photo she took of Jamie after a hearty serving of turtle soup. The next day, when she had sobered up, she regretted using a piece of film without consideration for how many (or more specifically how little) they had left. But now, with Jamie taken away from her once again, she’s glad she has this photograph. A physical reminder of a point in time when she and Jamie just were.
> 
> @annalisedemoodboards on tumblr

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=afcwo8)

  
I shimmied out of the final pieces of the dress and set the dress on the bed. I sighed feeling the ache in my feet- the same kind of ache deep down in my bones that happened after I had been in a surgery all night. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into the bed at the inn, have Jamie’s arms wrapped around me, and fall off into oblivion. That couldn’t happen though I reminded myself - Jamie had been arrested, again. And I had to find Young Ian.

“You can do this, Beauchamp.” I muttered to myself. I knew I could. I was a strong, independent, and outspoken woman. I could bloody well handle finding my own nephew. I started to dress into my normal clothes once more . As I grabbed my skirt, I noticed the pictures I had placed on the bed side table. I had come in in such a rush. I had completely forgotten Jamie had handed me the photos. 

_‘The portraits of the children. For safe keeping.’_ I smiled to myself as I recalled Jamie’s words to the for front of my mind. Willie might not be mine, but I had made a vow to Jamie, blood of my blood, so while he was not a child I had bared for him he was Jamie’s blood, and that made Willie mine as well. I undid the seal on the plastic bag, pulling the photos out. Taking a breath, I decided I had five minutes to spare to compose myself, and sat on the edge of the bed. I smiled and ran through the photos: Bree with the dog, Bree on the beach, Bree with the fishes she caught from the weekend up at the cabin, tiny Bree at my medical school graduation. I let out my breath and clutched the photos to my chest. My *god* how I missed her. I flipped through the next two photos, the two photos Jamie had snapped of me. I laughed at the memories, I had never really enjoyed having my photos taken whether it be in the eighteenth century or even in the twentieth century.

With my shaky hands I brought myself to the last photo, the one photo of Jamie. I chuckled softly as I recalled that particular night.

_“Are ye now? Sittin’ there wi’ yer hair lose and yer nipples starin’ at me the size of cherries.” Jamie said._

_Being as drunk as I had been, my inhibitions had ceased to exist. I pulled the top of my shift giving a stare down my chest. “Well it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” I mused._

_Remembering the polaroid camera was right behind me, I quickly diverted my attention from trying to seduce Jamie. I grabbed the camera and pressed it quickly. Catching *that* look on his face. The one face that made my insides melt down to goo and made me feel like a giddy little school girl who was trying to get kissed on the playground._

_“Dr. Fraser, what did ye that for?” Jamie mused as he pushed himself even further over the table, rolling his R’s like the highlander he was that knew he would be getting what he wanted from me, very shortly._

_“That, Mr. Fraser, would be what the doctor, me being the doctor, calls revenge for those two photos YOU have taken of ME.” I had said as I watched the film develop in front of my eyes. “You always say you look to look at me, well, I like to look at you just as much. Especially sun-kissed, smelling like the ocean, your red hair having extra shades show up, and that shirt. That shirt with the buttons undone and your chest hair popping out. This is a Jamie Fraser I would like to remember. Only thing better would be this Jamie in a kilt, but I will take what I can get.” I then placed the camera and the picture to the side of the desk. “Now where were we…”_

I had woken up the next morning with a massive headache. Gingerly getting out of the bed, I walked through the cabin trying to find my shift. Finding it on the floor, I slid into it, next trying to locate some water. Finding the water on the desk, I had also found the camera and the photo. My mouth watered looking at it, but a moment of regret panned over me, why did I use a piece of film on him? 

But now, the circumstances being as they were, I had no clue how I was going to find Young Ian and then the next step- how in the hell was I going to find my husband? I was overwhelmed. I knew I could do this, I knew I could. I muttered to myself. “Jamie.” I whispered to myself as I clutched the photo to my chest. I was now thankful for my drunken decision to snap that photo of Jamie.

How many times were we going to have to search for each other, when were we going to have a time where we would just *be* like that night on the boat? All I wanted was my husband here with me, my nephew safe and under our care.

I smiled softly as I looked down at the photo of Jamie wiping a tear off my face.I was exhausted and alone- I didn’t know how I was going to find my nephew, and I surely did not know how I was going to get my husband from under the the scrutiny of the British, but that it was what I was going to do.

Feeling as if I had composed myself enough, I slid the photos into the bag and placed them in my pocket. I was *going* to get my nephew and my husband because I did not travel thousands of miles and two hundred miles to be separated from Jamie, again. No, this was not going to work.

I wrote a quick note to Fergus and Marsali, letting them know the partial plan I had and slid quietly into the night to find my family.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading!


End file.
